


five times fury called coulson a little shit (and the one time may did)

by shafferthefirst



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Academy Philinda, Angst, Coulson as a kid in that one part, Coulson's death is mentioned, Family, Flashbacks, Fury as Coulson's mentor/big brother, Gen, Humor, Pre-Series, and then his resurrection, mentions of Coulson's father's death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 11:23:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3325667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shafferthefirst/pseuds/shafferthefirst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Nick Fury takes a young Phil Coulson under his wing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	five times fury called coulson a little shit (and the one time may did)

Nick Fury met Phil Coulson, puffy cheeked, black eyed, eight years old and clutching his Captain America cap like a lifeline, when he was pretty young himself. Old enough to be the first one on the scene after the poor boy's father was murdered right in front of him, but still young enough to look him in the eye and open his arms and seem so inviting that he clung to him for a solid hour until his mother could.

They exchanged contact information (for professional reasons, of course), which lead to phone calls (for client evaluation reasons, naturally), which evolved into frequent home visits (for...for post client evaluations.... obviously), which turned into taking the kid out for ice cream every other Tuesday when he stood up for himself on the playground and picking him up from school every other Thursday when his mother worked late in the bookstore, not uncommonly scolding him for getting into fights with kids twice his size (for....for reasons of...). 

Alright, he bonded with the little shit. He was good, strong willed, just prone to overestimating his physical strength and had buttons that were easily pushed. But overall, he was a lonesome kid who lost his father and needed a friend. Plus, he had a lot of potential. Sue him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_One_

 

 _I'm gonna kill that kid_ , Fury grumbled to himself, scanning through the crowd until he spotted the blue cap in the sea of heads. It should have been hard to pick out, granted there were dozens of other boys around showing off the iconic shield atop their heads, but his was worn. Faded, fraying at the edges, and bent in the middle of the bill from gripping it tight in his darkest times. A security blanket of sorts, to give him the courage he needed to face life.

Which is why when he received a frantic call from Mrs. Coulson once the principal notified her that he was nowhere to be found after an unfortunate scuffle at recess, he knew exactly where the ten year old would be. 

The second Phil noticed the man waiting for him outside the building, he froze, not unlike a deer in headlights, and spun around on his heel, high-tailing it back to the last display. 

 _Cap is not gonna save him from the foot up his ass_ , he thought before reaching out and reigning him in by the shirt collar. He paled.

"Okay, I can explain-" he started, but Fury had none of it.

"You had _better_ have a good explanation for this. You know what? I don't even want to hear it right now."

"I'M _SORRY_." He hung his shoulders in shame, balling his cap with his fist. "I didn't think _-"_

 _"Damn right_ you didn't think. Get your skinny ass in the truck. _"_

"Nick wait-"

Your ass. Truck.  _Now_."

He slumped impossibly smaller and crawled into the passenger side, face to the window. They were silent for a very long time.

Fury was the first to break it. Angry interrogation voice in tact. "Okay, I have to know. Humor me. What in the _hell_ made you think a stunt like this was okay?"

"I wanted to see the Captain America museum. I knew there was a bus to DC today. And I had enough in my allowance to pay for it."

"And you didn't think to tell anyone?!" he snapped. "Do you know what it was like to get that call? To hear that no one had seen my boy in hours? To hear your mother cry on the phone thinking she lost you too? Did you even _think about that?"_

He opened his mouth but nothing came out. 

"Of course you didn't. You never think about the consequences. You just do." He turned to send a deep glare in his sightline but stopped upon really looking at him. The boy had a busted lip, dried blood on his nose, and bruising around his left eye that was just starting to heal from the last time. He sighed. "Kid..."

"I'm _not_ your kid."

"That's right. You're not. You're my little shit and I'm supposed to keep you out of trouble. You fighting again?"

"It wasn't my fault."

He rubbed his temple. "It never is."

"But it _really_ wasn't this time!" Phil shoved his hands in his pockets, voice lowering. "They were pinning down Jacob Thomas. Kicking dirt in his face. He didn't do anything. I couldn't let them get away with it."

"So you intervened." 

"Yeah, and they let him go. But got me instead."

"Did you think that wouldn't happen?"

Ignoring him, he continued. "They took my cap, started stepping on it. Told me that Steve Rogers wasn't gonna save me. I told them to stop, my dad gave me that. And they said..." his voice was small, just a whisper. _"looks like your dad won't be saving you either."_

And that hit a nerve, fingers tightening around the steering wheel. 

"So you..."

"Yeah. Jumped up, started fighting, ran off before my teacher could get in. So I left and came here."

"Phil..." he didn't have words. 

"Captain Rogers would stand up for others."

"Captain Rogers also knew how to pick his battles. And he wouldn't scare his mama like that." Fury said, loosening his grip and glancing over to the passenger side again. "You really scared me today, kid." 

"...I know. And I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make it a big thing. I just thought he would help me." He turned to look at him for the first time the whole ride. "I wish I could fight like you."

"Maybe one day you will."

"No, Nick. I mean it. I'm tired of getting beat up. I wanna fight like you do. Like Steve did."

Fury sighed. "Alright, I'll make you a deal. I'll show you how, one one condition. You do not abuse it. You have _got_ to learn to pick and choose. You can't just go looking for trouble, walking around with a chip on your shoulder taking on guys twice your size and expect not to get your ass kicked. Cause you will. A lot."

"I know."

" _No,_ you _don't_ know. It's not just hitting and kicking people until they drop. It's like chess. You're good at chess. You gotta be smart about it. Strategic. You have to know your strengths and your weaknesses and not just assume you're stronger than you are. You're gonna have to know how to make hard calls and more importantly how to walk away from them. It sucks but that's just how it is."

He nudged him. "You're a good kid, Phil. You've got heart. That's what's gonna carry you, alright?"

"Alright."

Comfortable silence settled over the both of them. 

"You're still in big trouble, by the way, if that wasn't obvious."

 

 

_Two_

 

"I really don't see how this is training, Nick."

"Oh I'm sorry, I forgot I have a highly trained international spy on my hands. Care to give me a few pointers?"

"Very funny." 

"I try."

Phil rolled his eyes and scrubbed harder. "What happened to running and dodging? And punching things? I doubt _you_ had to wash a _helicopter_  for training. What is this helping with anyway?"

"Muscle stretching, precision, clearing your mind..." he sprayed the kid with the power hose and chuckled at his bewildered expression, "and teaching you to stay on task during any form of distraction. That was a test. You failed."

"Whatever you say, boss." Phil muttered and wordlessly continued his task.

"Plus, Henrietta needed a good cleaning." His chuckle to himself as he turned back to his newspaper was short lived; a burst of cold all around him sent the agent leaping out of his chair in surprise. The boy dropped his bucket and cackled to the point of losing his balance, toppling into the wet floor. 

 _"YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY YOU LITTLE SHIT??"_ He snatched the hose off the ground and shot it at him with full power. He only laughed harder. 

 

 

_Three_

 

Phil knew as soon as he found Fury at his doorstep two days after his graduation that he was there to recruit him for SHIELD. 

He swung open the door and tried not to sound overly excited. "Yes."

"Phil, I've known you longer than anyone I'm still close to."

"Yes." 

"This was a long time coming, but I think you're ready now. I'm here to talk about-"

"I already said yes, _boss_."

" _Dammit,_ kid. _W_ ould you let me get a goddamn word out before you start jumping to conclusions?!" He shook his head. "I might have just signed you up to work in a nursing home in the Arctic. You wanna push wrinkly ass Eskimos around in a sled wheelchair? Fine by me." 

Coulson slumped, looking way too much like the boy in his passenger seat eight years earlier. "Sorry." and then perked up again. "You were saying?"

He wasn't wrong. Exactly right, actually. 

He remained calm and cool and collected through the whole speech, even shaking his hand when he officially agreed. That didn't stop him from fist bumping the air and grinning like an idiot as soon as Fury started back towards his car; freezing mid victory lap around the building when he turned around.

"Summer semester of Operations starts next Monday. Your ass better be here and ready and packed on Sunday, 0600 hours sharp. You hear me?"

"Yep! I-I mean, _yes sir_. I'll be here. I won't let you down."

Fury nodded. "Best not, you little shit. Or else."

He didn't break his serious agent face into a smile until he pulled out of the driveway as Coulson did another lap. This kid had no idea what he was in for.

 

 

_Four_

 

"So how are you settling in?" Fury saluted to the Trust Cap poster on the wall before sitting in the desk chair. "Weight training killing you yet? How about the cafeteria?"

" _Way_ better than high school food," Coulson laughed. "And weight training isn't so bad. It's not my favorite but it's bearable."

"So what's your favorite? Intro to Espionage? That was my favorite my first semester. Sleuthing around, cool gadgets, scaring the piss out of SciTech recruits once I got good-"

"No, I'm not really into it." He thought it over. "The taunting I mean, the gadgets are fascinating. Definitely my style."

He gave him a knowing look but didn't push.

"I remember how much you loved finding my gadgets in the car."

"Remember the time I didn't know the pen was a laser and burnt a hole in your dashboard?" Phil chuckled. "That was-" the disapproving stopped his laughter in his tracks. "...that...ahem...that wasn't funny. Anyway. I think my favorite is hand to hand combat."

That was surprising. "Really? I didn't peg you for it. You kinda outgrew the thrill once you got better at it some time ago."

"Yeah," he sighed. Wait, did he just _sigh?_  "Some things just take you by surprise."

 _You have got to be kidding me,_  Fury thought. "What's her name."

" _What_?"

"You damn well heard me. Who's the lucky lady?"

He could have lied, but he decided against it, choosing to peer out the window and avoiding eye contact at all costs instead.

"My little shit," Fury snickered. "You got it bad, Phil."

"Do you mind not calling me that?" he demanded, serious switch suddenly flicked on. "I'm not a kid anymore."

"Well it is your God given name-"

"You know what I meant."

He shook his head. "Phil-" 

"Come on, it's embarrassing and you know it."

"Whatever you say. So when do I get to meet her?"

-

"That's her?"

" _Don't._ "

She was small, couldn't be over five foot four if she tried, but boy was she fast. Watching her work was nothing short of amazing. Her kicks were on point, her swings strong and confident, and her dark eyes so full of strive he possibly could have been scared shitless. That is, if it wasn't for the beam spreading on her face when she spotted Coulson watching her.

She tossed a towel around her neck and tightened her long dark ponytail before heading over.

"Hey," she said, not appearing the least bit winded by her fight. 

"Hi. You look great." He averted his gaze when he realized what he said, eyes probably ready to roll back into his skull. "I mean, you looked great. Fighting. Out there.....you fight good."  _Smooth_. _  
_

"Right," she raised an eyebrow and flashed him another grin before glancing up at Fury. "And you are? Besides tall?"

"Nick Fury; I'm this little shit's SO." He tried not to laugh at the vein threatening to pop out of Coulson's forehead. He really tried.

"Melinda May." She chuckled and shook his hand. "Director Carter was mine."

"Clearly."

"Compliment taken." Her attention turned back to Coulson, who was still trying to shake off the fluster. "Now that I'm warmed up, want to go a few rounds? I can lay out the mats again." Her voice softened. "That is, if you're up for it."

"Yeah," he answered too quickly. "Definitely up for it. You know, if you're up for it."

"Well since I asked-"

"......I'll take it you're up for it then."

He started to follow her, but was halted to a stop by a harsh tug on the back of his shirt. 

 _"_ Hang it up kid. She's out of your league."

" _What_ -"

He clapped him on the back. "She's one of Peggy's. There's ain't a chance in _hell_ for that happening."

Giving him his best shit-eating grin, he said, "Worked for Steve." and took off.

 

 

_Five_

 

No.

That was the first thing on his mind before he even found him there in the floor, a hole ripped in his chest and panting. Too familiar to process. No. It wasn't the time to think about the clear eyes, hopeful and whole hearted and shattered to the core, of the child he met so long ago were the same ones struggling to stay open before him. Still full of hope and heart and then shattered in a new way.

"Sorry, boss," he murmured. "The god rabbited."

Fury pulled the gun away, giving the deep rising and falling of his chest more space. "Just stay awake." He held up his face in his hand when it grew too heavy. "Eyes on me."

He shook his head. "I'm clocked out here."

"Not an option."

"It's okay, boss," Coulson spoke softly. "This was never gonna work, if they didn't, if they didn't have something....to...."

-

Fury pushed that memory to the back of his mind. No need to grieve anymore. 

He took a deep breath; no turning back now.

It was for the best. For everyone.

He gave the doctor a firm nod and glanced down at the body one last time.

"See you soon, little shit."

 

 

_May_

 

His concentration broke at the sound of a file landing on his desk. 

"This everything?" He asked, peering up at the dark eyes before him.

"Yes sir. Down to the last detail."

He drummed his fingers on the surface. "And you're positive about this?"

"Very." May nodded to the folder. "Someone that can repair his body, a technician that can reprogram his brain, and..." Her voice trailed off.

He folded his arms. "And?"

Unlike the young woman he met all those years ago, full of warmth and quick wit and genuine empathy, Melinda wasn't much for showing emotions these days. Not after the hell she saw, or the hell she still sees. Not after everything.

Especially not after losing her best friend.

She did, however, seem to lower her wall, let that little girl out. Just for a moment.

"A specialist," she stated. "To help me put him down. If necessary."

"And you're ready for this? To get back out there?" He gave her a knowing look. "Because if you're not-"

"I can do it. He had my back then, I have his now. We'll be even."

"Good." He nodded towards the door. "You're dismissed."

She strode out the door, her mind the slightest bit at ease for the first time in a long time.

"Don't worry," she smirked, from the threshold, "I'll take care of your little shit."


End file.
